Promises
by B. Alex Burke
Summary: WOO! My first National Treasure story. A fic based around Emily and Patrick's relationship Post-BoS. SUPER SPOILER ALERT! Rating for later chapters...
1. I'll Se You in No Man's Land

**Disclaimer: yeahh no. I don't own it.**

**Ch. 1 - I'll See You in No Man's Land**

Emily Appleton sat in her living room with her slender legs tucked beneath her equally small frame, a cup of hot tea in her bruised and scraped hands. Just hours before, she was several hundred feet below the earth's surface, helping archaeologists excavate the biggest discovery in American history – the discovery of Cibola, and now, she sat clad in her favourite silk night gown, thinking of her ex-husband. It perturbed her that he could have such an impact on her after thirty-two years of absence, but at the same time stirred up the lingering hope she had withheld from the last days of her marriage. Patrick had always been caring toward her and Benjamin. At least, when he was around. She never quite understood why he was so obsessed with that Templar Treasure. It wasn't like, she had believed, it was in actual existence. The Masons had created the elaborate story of the vast chambers of gold and jewels for entertainment. However, when her son's name was on the front page, accompanied by 'Templar Treasure', she became much more of a believer, and even more proud of her son.

Now she was partly responsible for the discovery of her own treasure, and she had never been more astounded to be offered such a large amount of money for finding the ancient artifacts. Of course, she planned on saving most of the five million dollars she had been allotted from the total that had been awarded to the group, but first, she had decided, she would purchase a new house, perhaps a new car, or even a little patch of land near the ocean where she could construct her own ocean-side manor.

Shaking her head, Emmy chuckled softly as she created such fantasies. A quick glance at the clock alerted the older woman of the lateness of the hour, and she promptly decided to head to bed. Just as she rounded the corner to her small, but quaint, kitchen, a knock on the door sounded throughout her two story house. "Who on Earth?" she mumbled, hastily wrapping her dressing gown around her frame before answering the door to whatever visitor she had. "Look, what ever your selling, I really don't …." Her words hung in the air as her eyes took in who was standing at her door.

"Hello Emily."

"Patrick!" she gasped.

"May I come in?"

**Author's Note: Whyieyieyieyow! It's been a long time since I wrote anything. **

**And yes!! I know! It's short and slightly annoying, but I ****do**** plan on finishing this one, and very soon at that. Hope you enjoyed and I would LOOOVVVEEE some reviews. Thanks!**


	2. To Be or Not To Be

**To Be or Not To Be…**

Emily's jaw still hung open and it took her several seconds to realize that she was standing rather like a small child in front of a candy shop – mouth agape, arms limp at her sides. "O-of course!" she sputtered, inviting her very unexpected guest into her home. "Um … Would you like…" He interrupted her, wanting to get straight to the point. It wouldn't do either of them any good to make the situation more uncomfortable by waiting. "Em, I …. I came to talk."

That was all it took for her to bring him to her living room, which was furnished with several antique pieces that had been handed down through her family for several generations, as well as some more modern pieces that set off the eclectic feel quite nicely. "Well… Do what you came here to do, Patrick."

The man in question sighed deeply and clasped his hands together. "Today was a … memorable day in more than one way," he began, deepness in his eyes that Emily had not seen in a very long time. "Emily, not only did we find Cibola, but … I think we found ourselves." His cheeks reddened slightly and he realized his words could have been taken negatively. "I mean … Well …. We found our connection again." He smiled over at his ex-wife, hoping she felt the same things he had during the past hours of the day.

Gently, his hands found hers and he was extremely grateful that she did not pull away. "I'm sure we can make things work out. We only separated because of …" Pat dared not finish his sentence. They both knew that his treasure hunting had come first during their final days of marriage, and to this day he regretted never pushing it aside for ten minutes and lavishing his wife with the affection she deserved.

The silence in the room ate away at the both of them. Emily wanted to scream at her ex-husband for saying such things to her; for wooing her again, but at the same time she wanted to kiss him and tell him that he was absolutely right. Struggling to choose between her thoughts, the older woman barely noticed when Patrick stood and moved to the fireplace adjacent to her sofa. "I completely understand if you're furious with me, Emma," he whispered. "I would be, too. I mean, it's not exactly polite of me to spring all of this on you right now, but …" He turned to her, tears glistening in his deep brown eyes. "I didn't want to wait, because I was so afraid I would loose you again."

That did it for Emily. His eyes had always been her weakness, but she could tell, beneath the tears and confusion and nervousness he meant every word he said and truly did want her back. Silently, she stood and made her way across the room, glad he had turned back toward the fireplace. Her arms gingerly snuck around his broad chest, locking tightly around his form. "Thank you," she breathed her voice thick with emotion.

Pat's eyebrow arched and he turned in her embrace, his own arms wrapping around her body. "Whatever for?" he asked, quite unsure as to what she meant.

"You came back for me," she muttered her voice barely audible as her salty demons spilled over her porcelain cheeks and dripped down her chin. "After all these years, you still …." Her voice broke. "You came back."

**Author's Note: Why, you may ask, am I staggering these chapters this way? Answer – I'll NEVER finish this story if I don't! Reviewwwwsss Please!!**


	3. New Beginnings

**New Beginnings **

Emily awoke as the sunlight splashed across her face and a very warm blanket wrapped around her slender form. Her brow furrowed and her eyes clamped tighter shut as she tried to figure out just what was different about that morning than the rest. It his her like a ton of bricks when her ex-husband let out a soft groan before tightening his grasp around her and burying his face in her neck. "Good morning," he muttered, taking in her sweet scent.

"Mmm…. Yes, it is," Em replied, her lips tugging upward into a grin. Memories of the night before flashed before her mind's eye and her grin broadened. "What time is it?" Usually, Emily was up by eight and in her office by ten, but she had a very strong feeling that she would be calling in to the Dean to request a few weeks' sabbatical.

Patrick twisted his head around to see the clock on his wife's bed-side table and squinted to see the time. "Nine-fifteen," he replied softly before returning his head to the crook of his lover's neck. "Much too early to be awake."

The woman chuckled throatily before snuggling closer to the man she had shared her bed with. "Not for me," she breathed, gently nipping at his ear, (she knew it was one of his most sensitive spots), before sliding out of his embrace and slipping her robe onto her body. "I need to call Dean Johnson and request time off."

Her words made Pat's body lax and a frown form on his face. Emma shifted so she was sitting next to him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Don't worry. I've been meaning to take a month or so off anyway. I've got two classes a day, five days a week, and honestly, it's becoming a bit too much for this old broad to handle." A squeal of delight left her rosy lips as Patrick's arms quickly wrapped around her and tugged her down on the bed. "I'll have you know," he began, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "That you most certainly are not an old broad."

His lips met hers between words and grins formed on both of their mouths. "You are a fantastic, intelligent, beautiful woman who happens to be mine." Pat chuckled and let his nose rub against his lover's for a moment before releasing her and helping her sit up. "Now," he muttered, gingerly pressing kisses to her neck before standing with her. "Go call the Dean and request a wonderfully long two months off."

"Patrick Henry Gates!" she gasped, appalled at the amount of time he wanted her to take off.

"What?" His grin matched the mischievous glint in his eyes. "You said you've had an insane work load, and I'm sure there are several wonderful professors that can cover your classes until you feel like returning."

Emily simply shook her head and made her way to the living room where she made the call to the Dean's office. The conversation went smoothly and easily, and, much to Dean Johnson and Emily's delight, the head of the university granted the over-worked professor the requested two months sabbatical.

* * *

The smell of pancakes, bacon and eggs filled Patrick's nostrils and he stirred from his slumber for a second time that day. His eyes flickered open and he was surprised to see his lover standing by the bed with a tray laden with enough food for the both of them. "Seems you dozed off after I called the Dean," she muttered, setting the tray down beside his legs before moving to sit on the opposite side of the bed. "So, I decided breakfast would be a good idea."

"A wonderful idea," Pat said, letting his eyes close as he inhaled the spectacular blend of smells that were coming from the tray of food next to him. "I can't remember the last time we had breakfast in bed."

Emily shook her head and pressed her finger against his lips. "Don't try to," she whispered. "Only think about how you're cooking breakfast tomorrow." They both shared a soft bout of laughter before settling against each other. Patrick filled one of the forks on the tray with eggs before holding it before Emma's lips, grinning when she gladly let him feed her.

Their breakfast disappeared after half an hour of gentle kisses and hand feeding the other, and they lay together on the bed after setting the tray on the floor, sharing sweet kisses and soft caresses. It was most certainly the best morning they both had, had in a very, very long time.

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_Author's Note: Shazaam! Hehh… Anyhoo, thanks for the reviews __**hollywoodgal**__, _**Sandpiper**_ and __**Eva Gabor is Awesome.**__ They're much appreciated . Gimme some more -lol- and I shall give you more story._


	4. Old Acquaintances

Old Acquaintances

**NOTE: this chapter is set three days after chapter 3. Just FYI**

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Emily Appleton was probably happier than she had been in quite some time. Her son, ex-husband, and she had discovered the greatest lost treasure of American history, they all had a little extra money in their pockets, (which was never a bad thing), and Patrick was better than ever; in more ways than one.

The buzzing dryer brought her from her thoughts, and she smiled over at her lover as he began emptying the machine's contents into a wicker laundry basket. "Pat, you didn't have t-" she began, quickly being interrupted.

"I **want** to, Emma," he replied, bringing the basket over to the couch where he took a seat next to her and started folding the few things of his that were in the basket, not once asking for help. The sight made her jaw fall open. "Have you never seen me do laundry before?" The shake of her head made him laugh.

"No, I've not," she replied curtly, a soft smirk tugging at her lips. It was, indeed, a rare site for her to see Patrick doing his own laundry. Of course, it wasn't as if they met up for him to do laundry, but in the final months of marriage, they had argued quite a bit about petty things, including washing clothes and dishes. Soon, he began folding some of her clothing, and the silence it elicited from her made him glance up to see if she'd stopped breathing. "What?" he muttered, setting the set of underwear he'd just folded down on the sofa next to his clothing. He chuckled at her expression and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "I want to do something for the woman I love, and her laundry is one of those things I can do."

Together, they laughed before Emily set their clothes in the basket and pushed it aside, then pulled herself up into Patrick's lap and rested her head in the crook of his neck. "You don't have to do things for me," she whispered. "Just be here; that's all I ask." Pat looked at his ex-wife with a soft smile on his lips, nodding in reply to her request.

* * *

"Patrick!" she giggled, letting her body lean against the door facing as her exuberant ex-husband pressed tender kisses to her face and neck. "Patrick, we're supposed to be looking for the classifieds." Her words were soft and ended in a swallowed moan, Mr. Gates' lips having descended up on her own to muffle her interruptions.

"You know," he began, his ministrations pausing so he could look his love in her deep chocolate eyes. "I've already found the most gorgeous house just twenty minutes from campus, and I think you'll love it." He moved forward to press a kiss to her lips, but her hand came between them.

Emma's eyes were wide and her mouth was slightly ajar. "Have you now?" she whispered, very much surprised that he had been looking for properties so soon. "What house is it? I may have seen it already, and may hate it entirely."

Her words made him frown, his brow furrowing. "It's a beautiful house," he said, now thinking over every picture, every description he'd read of it. It had only been two days since he'd found it online, (thanks to Riley, who helped him learn how to use online real estate search engines), and it had everything Emily and he could ever want; a fabulously short distance from all of the best places in Washington, and only a fifty minute drive from University of Maryland campus. He'd done all his research and knew he could afford it, and still have a decent amount of money left over. After all, three million dollars wasn't that much from five million, and he still had a large sum left from the Templar treasure discovery, (Ben had insisted on giving his father a piece of the reward, and Pat had never done anything with it). "I'm sure you'd l-"

Emily laughed and loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, her arms crossing at the wrist. "Patrick," she whispered her forehead and nose resting against his own matching facial features. "I don't need a house. I'm quite content with you moving in here." She glanced down at her shoeless feet and wiggled her toes. "Or I could move in with you in Washington. It's only an extra fifteen minutes' drive." They both grinned at this, and Patrick leaned forward to kiss her, but again she stopped him. "We're using my bed. It's a California King, and, knowing you like I do, you still have that unbearably soft queen."

The man before her feigned a frown, but managed to peck his lover's lips. "As a matter of fact," he said softly, pressing his front against her lithe form. "I bought a new mattress two years ago, and it's very firm, just how you like it." The blush on her cheeks made Pat grin, and, finally, he was allowed to kiss her properly, basking in the moan she let slip from her mouth and into his. How he missed those kisses; deep and intimate with tender caresses.

The buzzing of her vibrating cell phone broke them apart, and Patrick frowned at the small Blackberry phone with hidden disappointment. Em simply chuckled before picking up the device and pressing the 'Talk' button. "Hello?"

"Well hello there, beautiful," replied a disturbingly familiar voice on the other end of the conversation. The voice sent unpleasant shivers up Emily's spine as her face lost most of its colour.

"How did you get this number?" she whispered harshly into the mouth piece, her legs taking a moment to move her from her spot to the window, an old paranoia reengaging itself. "Jonathan, how—"

He chuckled. "Oh it was simple, really," he muttered, twirling a pen between his smooth, slender fingers as he watched her house from directly across the street. "I called your wireless provider, which is the same as it has been, with the most worrisome, exhausted voice I could muster, saying I'd lost my wife's cell phone number, which was in my own phone, in my luggage on the plane, and needed to contact her right away. Of course, they asked your name and why my name wasn't on the bill, and I said that we'd just gotten married and I had a contract with another company. Well, the woman instantly felt sorry for me, and gave me your new number, which is only one digit different from your old one, by the way. I didn't know if you noticed that—"

"I do hope you realize you're violating your restraining order," she snapped, still frantically searching for his vehicle or body on her street. He never called unless he could see her or her house. She only hoped he couldn't see both. "It **clearly** states you must—"

"Keep myself at least one mile from your whereabouts at all times, never attempt to contact you via telephone, post, email, et cetera, and to seek counseling for my 'mental condition'. I've read it quite often enough to know what it says, dear Emily." His words were sweet and kind to any untrained ear, but to the woman he spoke to, they were venom-coated salt being rubbed into an old wound.

Patrick, in the mean time, was worried over his wife and her sudden nervousness. "Em –"

She cut him of with a sharp hand movement, gesturing he wait until she was off the phone to ask his questions. "Don't make me call the authorities, Jonathan. You know I will."

"Don't worry," he whispered sweetly, a grin evident in his speech. "I only want to talk to your son, and wanted to get your permission."

Emma paused and let her free hand fall to her side. Benjamin? Hundreds of thoughts raced through her head as she tried to come to some reason as to why he would want to speak to her beloved son, but he quickly answered her silent question.

"Since you're not objecting, I'll take that as a yes." Again, his no-doubt evil smile was able to be heard as he spoke. "Tah-tah, love." And with that, he hung up, leaving poor Emily Appleton with a confusion and worry-riddled mind.

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**Woww that took an enormous amout of time to write and I do apologize for my serious slowness. The next chapter should be out much sooner, but I make no promises at all! You know how horribly slow I am .**

**Anyhoo, thanks to all who have reviewed and I hope you do so again!**


	5. Confronting the Past

**Confronting the Past**

Emily Appleton sat on the large sofa in Patrick's living room, a cup of now Luke-warm tea in her hands, said hands trembling slightly. She'd yet to explain why just two hours prior, she rushed through her home, packing everything she held important to her in suitcases and duffle bags. Her lover had asked on several occasions while they put things in his car just why she was so shaken, but she never replied. Well, not in a sensible way that was usual of Em. Her mind was racing, frazzled; she was continuously bringing up old memories of a man she'd hoped to never hear from again.

Patrick, on the other hand, was worried over his ex-wife's well-being, but knew that he had to be patient if he wanted to get answers not fueled by anger. Gently, he sat next to Emily, his hand finding her knee. The instant he made contact with her, she began to tremble more harshly; she was scared, and now she was crying. "Oh Emily," he breathed, removing the mug from her hands and pulling her into a careful embrace. Every tear that fell from her eyes fell to the base of his neck, and each tear tugged one from his own eyes. How he hated to see her like this, but he wouldn't push her to tell him what was plaguing her mind.

And plaguing her thoughts were indeed. Sobs escaped her lips, unbidden. He didn't need to see her this way. It had been over a year since she'd last done this – broken down over Johnathon Bleekly – and she knew he wasn't worthy of such strong emotions. Still, she sat cradled in her love's arms, listening to him whisper sweet words in her ear to calm her. How she loved him so.

It was minutes before she composed herself enough to explain what had happened between she and Johnathon.

It began as simple dinner. Emily had been divorced for twenty years, and it wouldn't be considered a bad thing to start looking at the other side of the table and seeing a man. John had decided to be that first man to take the "hot seat". Their conversation had been light, he paid for everything, (despite her continuous arguments otherwise), and made sure she got home safely. A gentle kiss ended the evening and, unfortunate for John, Emily wrote him a note saying their night was pleasant but not one that would be repeated. To say the least, he did not take it lightly.

Stalking was the first of many offences he was proven guilty of. Harassment of the verbal and physical kind, as well as trespassing and attempted robbery came first.

"Oh Emma," Patrick breathed. "You should have told me about this. I could have helped."

The only response Miss Appleton could elicit was a raspy laugh. "Patrick, you know as well as I do that would have only ended in an argument about toothbrushes and rugs."

Together they laughed and held one another. It was another fifteen minutes before Benjamin Franklin Gates rang the doorbell. Emily's face went white before Ben could even open his mouth.

"Mom?" he inquired, concern flashing across his face. He sat in the chair adjacent to the sofa, his hand instantly finding hers. "What's the matter?"

It took a moment for the words to come, but Emily finally said, "He called you, didn't he?"

Ben knew instantly that Mr. Johnathon Bleekly was much more deeply involved than he had originally thought. "Just got off the phone with him. Said he read the articles about the Templar Treasure and Cibola. Mom…?"

"Where is he sending you?"

"Rome. Caesar's last will and testament was discovered, promising endless riches to the people of Rome, but the country never saw a dime."

Her eyes flashed an emotion Benjamin had never before seen in his mother. "I'm coming with you."

**A/N: SO! Forever and a day ago, I started this story. Now I'm updating. Reviews are ALWAYS lovely, so feel free to drop a few my way. Chapter six is in the making, so don't be alarmed if I –GASP- update within the month.**

**Toodles!**


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